


A Warm Sunset

by atreeintheforest



Category: RWBY
Genre: 5 Times, 5+1 Things, Angst, Comfort, Fairgame, Flirting, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Noticing little things, Pre-Relationship, Soft Qrow Branwen, and then definitely relationship, fair game, for a bit, in this house we don't think about v7ch12, maybe just a little bit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:33:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28667028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atreeintheforest/pseuds/atreeintheforest
Summary: Qrow hasn't fallen in love in years. Maybe he's never fallen in love. Nothing's made him feel like he's worth it before, and he certainly isn't putting in much effort, with his semblance and all. But newly arrived in Atlas, Qrow is drawn to Clover before he can even settle in. He's not sure why, but he doesn't mind it. Clover is different. Good, almost.- Or, five times Qrow ended up at Clover's door, and one time he didn't.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	1. Unexpected

Unable to sleep, Qrow drifted through the Atlas military gardens aimlessly, admiring the well-sculpted trees and bushes, and the various shades of flowers, slightly paled by the moonlight. Light clouds were set across the sky, and the air was still and quiet. Peaceful for the man, as he wandered through the garden. As he passed a large, spherical bush, he felt a gentle drop of rain on his forearm. 

Without warning, the raindrops grew larger and more frequent. He huddled into the collar of his shirt, grasping at the edges and turning them up in a feeble attempt to shield himself from the rain, as he ducked through the nearest doorway.

It was dim in whatever dormitory building he had taken shelter in, and he estimated the time to be around midnight, though he couldn’t tell. His scroll had died. Just his luck. He continued to wander the halls aimlessly, shoes squeaking on the stone floors. They weren’t as pretty as the gardens, but they’d do just as well.

After wandering for a bit and rounding a few flights of stairs, Qrow stopped. Looking up from the ground he had been focusing on, he took in his surroundings and realized that he wasn’t sure exactly where he was. 

_Gods,_ he thought, _this has gotta be one of those new buildings Jimmy was talking about earlier._

Turning to his left, Qrow spotted a few couches and a coffee table, along with a set of elevators. Sauntering over, he sank down into one of the couches, and closed his eyes, running his hands through damp hair before putting his head in them. Rain water dripped down the sides of his face, and landed on his lap.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid man,_ he thought as he clacked his heels anxiously against the polished stone flooring.

___________________________________________________________________________

It was just past midnight, and Clover was finishing up on a few reports for the General. The moon shone through the large window beside him, and lit the room dimly. Still in his uniform, he was crouched over the coffee table across from the couch he was sitting on. His fingers clicked seamlessly over the keys of his laptop, and he squinted at the screen as he attempted to describe a recent grimm attack on a supply run. 

He took a moment to sit up and run a hand through the waves atop his head. His fingers stopped, but the clicking didn’t. 

Someone was out there. 

He was sure. 

Quietly, Clover stood from the couch and reached for Kingfisher on the table beside him. Not wanting to take his eyes off the door, his hand tapped blindly on the glass tabletop until it felt Kingfisher’s cool metal handle. He stepped slowly towards the door, putting an ear to it in an attempt to gauge what might be on the other side.

Counting down from three in his head, he prepared himself for a fight.

_Three._ He flicked the pin on his lapel.

_Two._ He snapped Kingfisher into an offensive position.

_One._ He placed his hand on the doorknob.

_Go._

Quickly turning the handle, Clover stepped out of the room and into the hallway, only to find Qrow sitting on the couch across from him, head in his hands. The older man’s head snapped up as he heard Clover’s door open, and a look of confusion crossed his face, as he saw Clover standing in an offensive position.

“What’s got you all frazzled?” he asked, tilting his head as he studied the man across from him. 

Bewildered, Clover stared back for a moment, before replying.

“You, I… I think?” he said, as he watched Qrow’s heels tap the floor rhythmically.

Realizing what had captured Clover’s attention, he steadied his feet, and offered the man an awkward smile.

“Oh uh… Sorry about that.”

Clover studied the huntsman once again. His hair and shirt were soaked, and his brow was stiff.

“What’re you doing up here anyways? It’s past midnight.”

Holding up his dead scroll, Qrow began to explain how he had been wandering the gardens, and it had begun to rain.

“Why bother trying to sleep when you know you can’t?” he said, chuckling to himself.

And before he could think, Clover made an offer.

“Would you like to come inside? You can charge your scroll and…” he trailed off, not sure exactly what he was offering. 

“Are you sure I wouldn’t be intruding? I mean you did say it’s--”

Clover cut him off. 

“If I didn’t want you here, I wouldn’t have asked.”

_Gods,_ Clover thought, _was that too forward? I’ve known him for less than a day…_

“Alright, alright. If you insist,” the older huntsman replied, raising his hands from his lap in mock surrender.

_What the hell,_ he thought, _am I doing?_

  
  


___________________________________________________________________________

As they walked through the door, Qrow took in the space that Clover called home. It was cool and clean, not a dirty dish in sight, and not a pillow out of place. His small apartment was a mansion compared to the single-room military dorm Qrow had been put up in, and he said as much, jokingly.

“I can take it up with the General, if you’d like?” was Clover’s reply. 

When Qrow looked towards the younger man, he thought he’d see a look of humour on his face, but he was being sincere. He looked down for a moment in confusion. What’d Clover care whether he stayed in a box or a mansion?

“Nah, Jimmy’s put me up in the kind of place I deserve,” he replied half jokingly.

Clover’s brows furrowed for a brief second, before he shrugged.

“Alright, whatever you say.”

He wandered towards a small hallway before turning back to Qrow.

“I’m gonna get out of this uniform. Scroll charger’s on the desk by the window,” he said, shooting the huntsman a small smile.

Qrow held his gaze.

“Right, thanks.”

With that, Clover turned the corner into another room. 

When he came back out from around the corner, Clover found Qrow sitting on his couch, his shoes by the door, and wet overshirt hanging on one of the coat hooks. He was fiddling with the rings on his slender fingers, turning them anxiously, and didn’t notice that the younger man had re-entered the room. 

Clover wandered over to the small kitchenette, and opened the fridge. At the sound, Qrow looked up.

“Want anything?” the younger man offered, “I’ve got a couple beers left over from a few weeks ago.”

Qrow frowned, breaking the eye contact for a moment. His hands went still.

“I… don’t drink,” he said hesitantly, instinctively reaching to fiddle with his rings once again.

To his relief, Clover shot him back a gentle smile, and shrugged his shoulders.

“Well in that case, I suppose we could have my regular late night drink,” he replied, smiling as he pulled out a carton of chocolate milk. “I prefer it over alcohol anyways.”

Qrow chuckled, and smiled softly.

“Hit me.”

___________________________________________________________________________

Clover sank down onto the couch beside Qrow, handing one glass of chocolate milk to the older man before tipping his own out towards him. Their glasses clinked, and they each took a sip. Putting his glass on the coffee table in front of them, Clover winced as he stretched his shoulders back. Constant missions with no downtime were taking more of a toll on him than he’d care to admit. If Qrow noticed, he didn’t say anything.

As Qrow gulped down the chocolate milk, Clover studied the man. His brow was lined with thin creases, though the rest of his face was almost barren of wrinkles. He frowned, wondering what could’ve caused the other man such worry. He looked up at the older man’s eyes. They were a warm vermillion, a shade Clover had never seen in eyes, and had rarely ever seen so vivid.

_Gods,_ he thought, _his eyes are like clouds in a sunrise._

Qrow looked over, and caught the younger man’s eyes as he looked into his. He felt a bit of heat rise into his cheeks, and shot the man a small smile.

“What’chu looking at?” he chuckled, looking away only to finish the last of the chocolate milk in his glass.

Clover blinked out of his focus on the older huntsman’s eyes and turned away quickly. He felt the blood rise to his cheeks, and hoped Qrow couldn’t tell in the pale moonlight.

“Nothing, just… thinking,” he replied.

Qrow hummed in response, leaning back heavily into the couch. Clover turned back to face the other man again. He was frowning again.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, blinking kindly, brow knit with worry.

Qrow wanted to tell Clover. He wanted so badly for nothing more. He wanted to explain how since he had stopped drinking, he hadn’t slept through a single night. He wanted to tell the man how the clanking sounds of the guards' feet as they patrolled the dormitory hallways startled him every night, as though they were enemies, waiting to attack outside his door. He wanted so badly to explain how Atlas was overwhelming and cold at the same time. How the perpetual frost left his lungs feeling colder than ever before, especially without a drink, and the constant movement made him jittery, like electricity under his skin. He longed to talk of the warm sunsets he’d seen, and the harrows he’d faced, and how Atlas was so barren and unnerving, compared to the things he’d experienced.

Maybe he’d share a warm sunset with Clover.

He banished that thought as quickly as it came. He’d only just met Clover a few hours ago. 

_Wouldn’t wanna scare the man off…_

So he sighed, and answered.

“Lots to think about, with everything that’s happened.”

“I get that.”

Qrow looked back up to the younger man, and frowned at the kindness in his eyes. He tried again to convince himself he couldn’t let someone get close. Not again, and certainly not someone like Clover. The man had his whole life ahead of him. He didn’t need to be burdened with bad luck. 

Burdened with him.

“I…” Qrow sighed, “I’d better get back to my place,” he said firmly, leaving no chance for Clover to argue otherwise. “Thanks. For this,” he said as he set down his glass.

“Yeah, of course,” the younger man replied. He stood up, and walked with Qrow to the door.

As Qrow reached for the doorknob, Clover spoke.

“Wait, Qrow,” he said hesitantly, glancing down before looking the raven-haired huntsman in the eye, “could I walk with you? I think I could use the fresh air.”

Qrow saw a faint blush rise in the other man’s face, but said nothing of it. Clover was nervous, he could tell, and he looked away for a moment to smile.

_Why’s this kid so persistent?_

Suddenly he realized, Clover felt different. Maybe it was the lack of drink, or the way the younger man looked at him, but gods, he felt different. Good, almost.

The brunet watched Qrow’s face relax. The frown he had worn the whole night, melted off.

Looking back, the huntsman spoke softly. 

“Sure, as long as you don’t mind the rain.”


	2. Noticing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qrow is at Clover's door again, and this time he's not drenched in rain.

The next time Qrow was unable to sleep, he found himself drifting again towards Clover’s apartment. They’d been on a few patrols together, and Clover had been using them as an excuse to show Qrow around the city, and things had been going surprisingly well. A part of him craved that feeling again. The one from the other night. 

_Different. Yeah, that’s it._

He rounded the familiar sets of grey stairs, pushed open the door into the hallway, and headed toward the chairs and elevators. He stood by one of the chairs for a moment, trying to remember which door was Clover’s, before choosing one, and praying to the gods that his bad luck wouldn’t come into play.

He stood at the door for a moment, hesitating to even lay a finger on it, and shoved his hands into his pockets. 

_Drunk Qrow wouldn’t be this godsdamnned anxious to knock on a door,_ he thought, before casting the image away. It was good that he wasn’t drunk. 

_Who am I trying to convince...?_

Clover had assured him he was welcome any time he needed, but by the gods, he wasn’t going to be the fool who ran to his partner _(friend?)_ every time he could not bring himself to sleep. 

  
_Why didn’t I go for a fly instead?_

___________________________________________________________________________

Clover was half asleep on his couch when he heard the knock at his door. He slouched forwards to get up off the couch, stumbling and hitting his leg on the coffee table, fatigue making his movements clumsier than usual. He groaned, and cursed in his head as he rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes, and made his way towards the door.

Blinking and squinting in the seemingly harsh light of the hallway, he looked up to see Qrow standing before him, and his expression softened a bit.

“Qrow,” he smiled, “come in.”

The older man stepped through the door, and took in the apartment once again. It was dark this time. Dirty dishes were strewn across almost every surface, and boxes of takeout food had been left out on the counters. Unusually messy for the Atlesian, who boasted of his clean apartment and neat uniform. He frowned before looking back towards the younger man. 

Was Clover doing alright? Should he ask?

As he walked over to sit down on the couch, Clover slowly stretched his arms high above his head, his too-small shirt rising just above the waistline of his Atlas sweats. Qrow watched the younger man’s muscles ripple as he reached into the air, flexing his hands and twisting them around. His eyes wandered down to the area left uncovered by the old Atlas t-shirt, and he stared. Just for a moment.

“Hey, my eyes are up here, Birdie,” Clover chuckled softly as he caught the older huntsman’s eyes.

He felt the heat rise into his face at the fact he’d been caught.

_Birdie? Gods, it’s been a long time since I’ve heard that one._

Qrow lifted his eyes to meet the familiar seafoam ones and blushed heavily as they both fell back onto the couch. It was then that he realized just how tired the younger man was. 

Dark lines traced the corners of his eyes, accentuating his gentle crows feet and aging the man. A deep purple lined the lower rims, fading down into dark bags under his eyes. Even the way he had moved was as though someone had tied weights to his limbs, and he was being pulled down. He’d never seen the younger man so worn.

_He must be exhausted..._

“Are you alright, Clover?” he asked tentatively, not wanting to scare him off.

Clover threw him a weary smile.

“I’m alright, Qrow.”

He pushed.

“You don’t look alright.”

“Qrow. I’m fine,” he snapped, 

Qrow looked away for a moment, brow furrowed in confusion. He’d never seen the Atlesian so upset.

“Clover,” he said, voice low but firm, “I’m your partner. Please, talk to me, it’s the least I could do to listen to you, since _I’m_ invading _your_ space.”

“Partner, right,” he sighed weakly, breaking his gaze from Qrow’s vermillion-sunset eyes. He felt the guilt begin to build from snapping like he had, and dropped his head into his hands.

_I’m alright now that you’re here,_ he wanted to say, _you’re more than just my partner._

But he couldn’t bring himself to. Though they had been on a few missions, and had warmed up to each other, Clover couldn’t shake the feeling that Qrow was holding back from him. 

_Partners. Was it foolish to think we were at least friends?_

He leaned further back into the couch, wincing at the pain in his shoulders as he placed his hands behind his head and stared up towards the ceiling.

“Sorry, I’m just… just tired, that’s all,” was his half-hearted reply.

But Qrow had noticed the way he moved gingerly as he was stretching, and how his arms had moved stiffly when he placed them behind his head. He saw the uncharacteristic disarray around him. Something was up, but he knew better than to push for answers he wasn’t entitled to. 

The older man just offered a knowing smile in return. Clover was a complicated man, more so than he had initially thought. Sometimes so forward, and sometimes such an enigma. 

So they both sat on the couch for a while, side by side in peaceful silence.

As the younger man leaned back and closed his eyes, Qrow took a moment to study his features. He smiled to himself as he spotted a light dusting of freckles on his nose and shoulders, and caught himself thinking of how gorgeous they’d look after a few days in the Patch sunlight. His smile grew as he noticed the grey intermingling with chestnut behind his ears. 

_We’re really not so different, huh._

After a while, Qrow heard the other man’s breathing slow. He looked over, and found that Clover was asleep. He looked calm, as though he hadn't rested in a millenia.

Smiling to himself, Qrow stood up softly from the couch, careful not to disturb the younger man. He moved quietly around the room, picking up dishes and placing them into the sink, placing the empty takeout boxes in the trash bin, and closing the blinds in the window. He grabbed a blanket from the side of the couch, and placed it gently over the sleeping man. 

_Sleep well, Cloves,_ he thought. _Maybe one day I’ll figure you out._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry for not updating this sooner! I've started a new semester of school, and that's certainly been keeping me busy. Hopefully I'll have the third chapter up quicker than I did this one! Not sure how I feel about this chapter, but I've been editing it for so long that this is probably gonna be the best it gets lmao. 
> 
> Come visit me at [my twitter](https://twitter.com/bxmblby) for updates and plenty more!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fairgame fic, and my first multi-chapter fic, so we'll see how it goes! I'm definitely open to feedback in the comments, if that's your vibe. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'm excited to share what's to come!


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